


Forgive Our Sins

by Ficwriter24



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Awkward Crush, Awkward Flirting, Everyone Is Gay, M/M, Pansexual Brendon Urie, cult happenings, dallon is bi, dallon is discovering his sexuality, dead ryan, dead spencer, i cant write kiss scenes, i dont know how to explain anything, nicole is a bad bitch and lives, no graphic descriptions, they're both awkward nevermind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 02:39:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18240710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ficwriter24/pseuds/Ficwriter24
Summary: So that’s how the story starts really. Brendon needed answers, and even if he didn’t know how, or where, to get them, someone else did.That’s where Dallon Weekes comes in.Dallon Weekes was, in lamest terms, a pretty average kid. He participated in class, had his own misfit group of friends, and went to church just like everyone else in town. He also happened to be the nosiest person Brendon had ever met.





	Forgive Our Sins

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a fic challenge, literally it's long af for no reason. I don't think I explained anything right but whatever. Brallon ig. hmu if you wanna talk about it. This fic takes elements from I Constantly Thank God soooooo yeah
> 
> instagram: lemonjoy24

He feels sick. Commonly, Brendon always feels sick sitting in these isles. Hundreds of people lined up to hear the same message that they would probably hear multiple times in their lives. It would always be the same room, the same echoing voice, and the same venom spewing lips.

To say that Brendon would rather be anywhere other than this stuffy room would be the understatement of the decade. It wasn’t that Brendon minded having to listen to what was being said, if it made people feel better than who was he to complain. What Brendon did mind though, was how clearly fake the whole scene was.

Now, Brendon isn’t claiming that all churches where the same, he didn’t really have any others to compare to the one he went to with his parents, seeing as they’d attended the same church since before he was born, but there was just something wrong with the way this place went about things.

The head priest had always had a flawless reputation, which was unsurprising, but everyone has secrets. Brendon wasn’t stupid. He knew that people had the right to live their lives and do as they please, but he couldn’t help but question the suspicious ticks that swallow the father whole when someone brings up the disappearances.

Brendon remembers the last time he seen Ryan’s face. The last thing he’d said to him. Brendon would give anything to share pizza on the living room couch with his best friend one more time. When he thinks about it, Brendon can’t help but feel like the disappearance of Ryan Ross was just yesterday. 

Ryan Ross had been missing for two months.

Spencer Smith had been missing for five days. 

Three other kids had gone missing between the time span of those two months, and even if Brendon hadn’t known them other kids like he had Ryan and Spencer, he still couldn’t shake the feeling it gave him.

“It has surely been a rough couple months. My condolences to all of us that have been affected by our recent loses.” 

Brendon didn’t know if the throb in his throat could get any worse. He couldn’t stand how fake it all felt honestly. In a place that was suppose to feel like a second home, Brendon had never felt more uneasy. But of course, He sat through it.

He wouldn’t ever call the bluff, or point out just what about this whole thing bothered him. 

So that’s how the story starts really. Brendon needed answers, and even if he didn’t know how, or where, to get them, someone else did.

That’s where Dallon Weekes comes in.

Dallon Weekes was, in lamest terms, a pretty average kid. He participated in class, had his own misfit group of friends, and went to church just like everyone else in town. He also happened to be the nosiest person Brendon had ever met.

“What do you think the disappearances have to do with the Church anyway- or do you think it’s just the father?” Dallon asked from his spot on Brendon’s bed.

Brendon turns himself to Dallon, grabbing the laptop from the desk and holding it in his lap as he scoots himself toward the bed.

“Well, there's the general avoidance of the topic itself, and haven’t you ever noticed that everyone who works with the Church gets really skittish whenever any of those kids are mentioned?”

“Well they’ve definitely mentioned them, so I think that evidence, which isn’t even evidence Brendon, is vetoed.” Dallon counters, shoving another Oreo into his mouth.

“Of course they’ve mentioned them, do you know how many people attend our Church? They have to bring it up every once in awhile, people would get suspicious if they didn’t.” Brendon points out, running a hand over the laptop keyboard.

“I think it’s a little late for that.” Dallon laughs, earning an eye roll in response.

“You get the point dummy.” Brendon smiles before throwing an Oreo at Dallon.

“Okay, so where’s your real proof? Like stuff that could actually help us.” Dallon questions, handing an Oreo to Brendon.

Over a short span of time the two had actually formed a pretty good bond. Dallon had always somewhat had a thing for Brendon, but he knew that wasn’t the kind of relationship Brendon needed right now. Dallon wasn’t stupid, everyone at the local high school knew how close Brendon and Ryan had been, and he knew that what Brendon needed right now was a friend.

“See, that’s the difficult part.” Brendon sighs, “I’ve done some research, but there’s not a lot to go off of.”

“Okay, well here.” Dallon makes grab hands for the computer before grabbing it himself and sets it onto the bed before them. “Let’s just check out what the Church website has. MAybe we can figure out the priests full name.”

Brendon leans in closer to the screen, adjusts his glasses, and looks over the web page Dallon had clicked on.

“I’m sure the website can at least give us a start.” Dallon mumbles more to himself than Brendon, and that's exactly what it does. 

By the end of the night Brendon and Dallon are sure of two things. Brian Anthony Wright was not who he claimed to be, and Brian Anthony Wright had been divorced for five years.

 

Later that night, Brendon and Dallon find themselves on Lilian Oscar’s front door step.

“How can I help you boys?” 

Lilian Oscar, previously Lilian Oscar-Wright, was a shorter woman that Brendon remembered from Wednesday evening service. Now she refused to step anywhere near the building. 

‘I’m Brendon, this is my friend Dallon. We’re from the Las Vegas Nevada Temple.” Brendon introduces, and immediately notices her features change. “Well we don’t serve for the church, we just attend services.”

She still looks sceptical, but Brendon can see her clenched fists relax.

“Alright, what can I do for you two.” She asks, clearing her throat quietly.

“We’ve been a little unsettled lately and we would like to ask you some questions. If that’s okay?” Dallon informs, his legs shifting in anticipation. “You don’t have to, of course. We just kind of think there's something more going on that the Church isn’t making their followers aware of.”

That’s how Brendon and Dallon got their first real set of proof. That night they went home with something more than opinions and conspiracies to believe in.

Brian Anthony Wright was definitely not who he said he was, and the “Church”, the one that Brendon had been attending since birth, had never really been a Church after all.

Brendon and Dallon sat on Brendon’s bed once again. A laptop, a notebook, and a pile of pens sat between them. Dallon’s legs were crossed, his back against the wall across from Brendon. Brendon’s eyes sat focused on the notebook in front of him, scanning over all the information they’d managed to get from Mrs. Oscar.

“I think I’d better call my mom.” Dallon claims quietly.

“Yeah, you should probably tell her you’re staying.” 

 

So far, they knew that the name Brian Anthony Wright wasn't a real name. Lilian claimed she’d never seen anything on a last name, but she’d seen plenty of old envelopes addressed to an Alexander Something in his office drawer. She also told them about how Brian had been married once before, but she didn’t go into any details. Neither of the boys pushed her for information. Lilian left the church after the divorce, refusing to step foot in another ever again. She claimed she no longer cared for the rules of religion and that it was no longer for her.

“I remember you Brendon. You always had such a bright mind, don’t them suffocate you.”

 

The following morning Dallon and Brendon found themselves getting ready for Church.b Dallon’s mother didn’t see a problem with him staying the night as long as he was on time for Church the next morning. Seeing as everyone knew the Uries wouldn’t miss service for anything, Dallon assured her he would be there.

Dallon sat on the edge of Brendon’s bed, adjusting the cuffs on the dress shirt he’d been leant. Brendon hadn’t had much for pants that could actually fit Dallon, so he wore his dark jeans from the day before. Lucky for them, they found one of Brendon’s shirts that could fit him.

Brendon thought Dallon looked good either.

 

The service was pretty basic that Sunday, but all Dallon could think about was how to get into the back offices. 

Meanwhile, Brendon was half asleep and shaking his leg at a mile a minute.

“Are you okay?” Dallon whispered into Brendon's ear.

“Yeah, just thinkin’” Brendon responds, tilting his head toward Dallon.

“Shocking.” Dallon teases.

Brendon rolls his eyes with a small smile. “Asshole.”

“Brendon Urie!” Dallon shouted in a whispered tone. “God is listening.”

“I think it’s late for that when it comes to me Dal.” Brendon laughs, turning to face the back of his parents head once again.

Dallon sat in silence for a couple of seconds until his brain caught up to what Brendon had just said.

“Wait, you mean like-”

“Yeah Dal, I mean like that.”

“Okay then.” Dallon nodded. 

It’s not like Dallon minded, he’d been raised to have an open mind, no matter what religion said. It was one of the parenting methods people usually respected unless you were a member of the Church.

“So, you’ve kissed a guy before.”

“Uh, no, actually.”

“Then how do you know?” Dallon ased, but quickly realized how horrible it sounded. “I didn’t mean, I just meant, uh, how could you tell? When did you know?”

Brendon gives off a quiet sort of laugh.

“I just did, I don’t know. I think I’ve known my whole life, I just never really noticed it was different. I knew for sure last year.”

Brendon didn’t think though, because he knew. He remembered the day his mother first introduced him to Dallon like the back of his hand. From that point forward, Brendon spent his days thinking about Dallon, and Sunday service staring at the back of his head.

Dallon nodded and turned himself back toward the front of the room.

 

Brendon and Dallon excused themselves from the after service reception, claiming that Dallon needed to grab his backpack from the Urie’s car. 

Brendon leans against the side of the car as Dallon reaches in to grab his bag from the car seat. He opens it and digs around for a second to make sure he grabbed everything, then closes it. Brendon sits and watches.

“So, I’ve been thinking about what Lilian said, about Brian” Dallon begins, copying Brendon’s position against the car. “I think we need to take a look around the back offices.”

Brendon looks at him with wide eyes, clearly realizing how bad of an idea this really was. “I’m sorry, did you really just say that?”

“I know how it sounds, trust me though” Dallon shakes his head, his arms crossing over his chest.

“It sounds incredibly stupid, but go on.” Brendon nods with an eye roll.

“One of us needs to get into Brian’s back office.”

 

The following Wednesday the Urie and the Weekes find themselves at the evening service. It hadn’t taken much for the boys to convince their parents to agree. The service board Brendon as it always did, and he seemed to find himself staring at Dallon.

“What’s it like? Liking a boy, I mean.” Dallon asks in a hushed tone, his leg shaking as he tries to take subtle interest.

“It’s exactly the same as liking a girl, just without the girl.” Brendon replies with a short laugh before turning to look at Dallon. “I’m pan by the way, I’m not just gay.”

Dallon nods, because strangely enough that makes a lot more sense. Brendon had always been friendly with everyone, no matter what their gender. 

Dallon is quiet for a minute before Brendon speaks again.

“You’re questioning aren’t you?” He said, wishing he had worded that differently.

“I don’t, I’m not sure. It’s something I’ve considered, but not a theory I’ve tested. If that makes sense.”

Brendon nods before looking down at Dallon’s lone hand, lacing their fingers together before hiding them between them. 

“Whoever you choose to be Dallon, whatever you choose to do, that’s who you’re meant to be. It’s okay to be who you are, no matter what your parents or this damn church thinks. But who you love isn’t a choice you’re gonna have to make. Just love who you love Weekes,and I promise it’ll make more sense later.”

Dallon stares down at his shoes as he waits for the burning feeling in his throat to go away. He looks up at Brendon and smiles, and Brendon smiles just the same. 

“So, after all this crazy shit is over, we can talk about it. Talk about boys, talk about girls, not talk about it at all.” Brendon lets go of Dallon’s hand and pats his leg. “But I will not talk about video games.” 

“Wait, what! You love video games.” Dallon shows in a disbelieving whispered tone.

“Yeah, but you suck at video games and the only video game you play is wizard quest or something.”

“Hey! It’s Wizard101, and I happen to be very good at it. I’m on level 15.”

 

“So how have you been Brendon?” 

Brendon had been totally cool with the plan up until that exact moment. He’d never been super fond of the main priest, but he’d been attending service since he was young, his parents even longer. 

“Good, not a lot going on lately. School, soccer season is starting up again soon though.” Brendon replies, trying to keep some sort of conversation up.

“Good, that’s good. I heard your grades are doing well, all A’s According to your mother. She speaks very highly of you.” The older man claims, leaning back in his office chair. 

“Yeah, schools always just been easy for me I guess. ADHD has its ups and downs.” Brendon scratches at his wrist in discomfort. “ My mom just likes the fact that she doesn’t have to worry about me getting into trouble.”

There’s a knock at the door before Dallon pushes his way through. His breathing is erratic and heavier than Brendon’s ever seen from him, and he’s holding his hand to his chest.

“Sorry I just, uh, I cut my hand in the kitchen, Cindy said there was stuff in the way back offices, but I can’t find them.” Dallon explains, his eyes squeezing in pain.

“Oh, wow, alright. Follow me Dallon, we’ll get that cleaned up.” Brian grabs him by the shoulder, guiding him out of the room.

Then Brendon is alone. He quickly hops up and makes his way around the desk. He opened and closed file cabinet drawers and shuffled through paper stacks. Brendon spots a key at the bottom of a desk drawer. 

He looks at the only locked cabinet in the office and makes his way there. He opens it quickly and shuffles through the contents inside. He shoves the key into his pocket as he pulls in a shaky breath of air. 

He slowly pulls out his phone, snapping a picture before shoving it back in it’s pocket. He picks up the picture from the bottom of the messy drawer and the messily written list next to it. The list holds names, but the picture hold something so much more nauseating.

“Shit.”

 

Dallon once again sat on Brendon’s bed, his hand cradled in his lap, now freshly wrapped in bandage.

“I can’t believe you did that Dallon, that wasn’t part of the plan.” Brendon fumes, glaring at Dallon’s hand. He throws himself down onto the bed next to Dallon and shoves his face into his pillow.

“I had to get him out of there somehow Bren. Trust me, I’m fine.” Dallon pulls a small smile in attempt to prove his point, but gets no response. He flicks at Brendon’s rib cage, causing him to emit a sigh. 

“I’m sure you could have gone about it in a different way.” Brendon grumbles and rolls onto his back, eyes focusing on the ceiling

“Whatever, bug me about it later.” Dallon replies with an eye roll. “So what did you fine. I know you found something, you’ve been kinda quiet since we got back.”

Brendon says nothing and reaches for the photo in his pocket, handing it to Dallon. Dallon runs his eyes over it and immediately pulls Brendon closer to him. “Oh Brendon, I’m so sorry.”

And Brendon lets himself cry. He cries so hard because his best friend is actually dead. Cries because he didn’t want to believe it, and cries because he knows exactly who to blame.

Dallon slowly garbs the picture from Brendon’s hands, holding it to his face for a better look. 

He could only remember Ryan Ross as Brendon’s best friend, only ever seen him at church or school in the halls. Could only remember the scarf he’s wear around his neck, the notebook in his arms, and a smile on his face. Now though, Dallon would probably only remember blood.

If Dallon himself felt like throwing up, he could only imagine how Brendon felt.

“I’m so sorry.”

 

Dallon went home that night. He knew Brendon needed time and when he was ready, Dallon would be there. So, Dallon gave him space.

Now Dallon was sat on his own bed, his own notes in hand, but the silence was almost suffocating. Dallon often found himself comfortable with silence, but so much time around Brendon Urie made silence feel like it was an abnormality. 

He’d been so wrapped up in the idea of being around Brendon and trying to figure out what the hell was going on, that he hadn’t stopped to consider the fact that Brendon was, in fact, a boy.

Dallon sighs and opens his notebook, eyes running over all of Brendon’s nonsense doodles and everything they’ve put together. When Brendon had come barreling out of the church doors earlier that day, he’d handed Dallon a list of names. Names of kids nobody had seen in awhile. 

It was starting to click in Dallon’s head just what exactly was going on. 

 

“Dallon! Hey.” 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Dallon replies, noticing how fake Brendon’s enthusiasm is.

“FIne, I’m fine.” Brendon nods, brushing Dallon off. 

“Okay, well, I think I have a theory of sorts.” Dallon claims, changing the topic, noticing Brendon’s clear discomfort.  
“Oh really? I thought you were one for physical evidence Weekes.” Brendon teases, nudging Dallon’s shoulder.

“No, Brendon I’m serious.” Dallon says in a somewhat stern voice. “This is serious.”

Brendon locks eyes with Dallon before sighing. “Yeah, I think I kinda put it together too.”  
He forces his gaze to the concrete ground, his feet practically dragging across the sidewalk. “How could something like that even be real? How could they do that to Ryan? He didn’t deserve that, none of them did.”

Dallon wished he could give Brendon some sort of closure, something to prove they’d make it out of this fine, but he just couldn’t. Dallon was just as upset as he was deep down, and when he truly thought about what was going on, Dallon couldn’t control the rage he felt.

“Sometimes, when I actually let myself think about it, I miss him a lot.” Brendon explains before sitting down on the curb behind him. He rests his head in his hands and take a deep breath. “He was my best friend Dallon.”

Dallon slowly sat himself down next to him. He grabs Brendon by his shoulder and pulls him into his own side.

Brendon huffs out another deep breath, closing his eyes in aggravation. “He didn't deserve that, no one could ever deserve that. He was just so great at everything. Singing, drawing, hell I’m pretty sure he could dance too.”

Brendon could have an eternity to get over Ryan, what’s happened to him, but it would never be enough.

Dallon sat in silence as guilt washed over him. He’d never been very good with his feelings, let alone someone else’s. 

“When you first started talking to me, started coming around at church and taking an interest in me,” Dallon began in an attempt to change the topic, thinking it would make Brendon think about something else. “I thought I was going to be his replacement or something, and then I got hooked on this idea of trying to make you feel better. Before I knew it you were my best friend and we were trying to solve some mystery we pulled out of nowhere.”

Brendon nods, taking the time to register what Dallon said, before shaking his head in confusion. He looks at Dallon as if he’d said the most sinful thing in the world. 

“Oh my god, Dallon no.” Brendon exclaims.

“I didn’t mean it like that I just, I don’t think of it like that anymore. At the time, I just didn’t think you’d actually wanna be friends with me.” Dallon tried to reason, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”

Brendon shook his head. He felt bad, had he really made Dallon feel that way? He’s always been himself around Dallon, he felt normal with Dallon. 

“I’m sorry. I know Ryan meant a lot to you, we all knew that. I just couldn’t help but feel like a replacement.” Dallon sighed, the exhale coming deep from within his chest.

“Don’t be sorry Dal, I’m sorry I made you feel like that.” Brendon apologized, his face reading clear regret. “You’re one of the most important people in my life. No matter how long I knew Ryan, or how long I’ve known you, there will never be a comparison.”

And then they’re hugging. 

Brendon’s arms are wrapped around Dallon’s waist, and Dallon has his arms around Brendon’s shoulders. Brendon can feel Dallon’s smile, how much bigger it is than before, and he’s reminded of all the girls he’s held like this, he can feel his cheeks turn pink and he thinks his lungs might explode from his lack of breathing.

Dallon Weekes had always been something else.

 

They’re seated across from each other in the lunchroom, which wasn’t that uncommon anymore, but Brendon found himself staring at Dallon’s hand that was scribbling on a page in his notebook. Notes from earlier Brendon thinks.

I think we need to pay Mrs.Oscar another visit.” Dallon suggests, and all Brendon can do is nod. 

“Yeah, okay. That’s a good idea.”

In three hours time they’re back on Lilian Oscar’s front steps.

“Hello again boys.” She greeted, a look of confusion written along her face.

“We’ve been doing a bit of research, and we would really appreciate it if you could answer just a few more questions.” Dallon exclaimed, pulling his notebook from his pocket.

“I don’t think I can give you anything else.” She claimed, shaking her head slowly.

“Mrs.Oscar please, we don’t really have anything left to follow. The trail runs dry here” Brendon exclaims, his voice becoming rough. “People are dying. Kids are dying! That can’t keep happening.”

Now Dallon had never seen Brendon cry, but he didn’t really want to either, but Lilian just sighs before nodding. 

“On this day every month there’s a meeting held in the basement of the church. It starts at midnight.” 

 

For the next few hours the boys sat in their own homes, nerves heightened.

Dallon sat next to his sister at the diner table like he always did, their parents sat across from them. His family carried on a conversation that Dallon didn’t take any interest in, other thoughts occupying his mind.

“I have a question.” Dallon exclaimed quietly, dragging his fork through his food. His leg was shaking so much that he swore it would fall off.

“Shoot kiddo.” His dad questioned, a smile painting his face.

“Why are we so,” Dallon began, but rethought his words with a sigh. “What’s so wrong with being gay?”

Dallon’s dad’s smile dropped from his face, his mother setting her fork down with a nod. 

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with loving who you want sweetie.” His mother replies.

“But doesn’t the church-” His sister began, but was quickly cut off by their father.

“We know what the church says honey, but sometimes it’s good to have your own opinions on things.” He explains. “This family is LGBT friendly kids. Everybody love differently.”

The table is silent for a few minutes, everyone eating silently.

“So, if I liked boys, that’d be okay?” Dallon questioned, eyebrows raised questioningly.

“Of course honey.”

 

At 12:05 they’re sat in Dallon’s car, the church parking lot empty. Brendon’s staring out the window beside him, drowning in a sweater that Dallon pulled from his backseat somewhere when Brendon finally admitted he was cold.

“What if we aren’t ready for what’s in there?” Brendon askes in a quieter voice than usual, and Dallon looks at him in confusion.

“We’ve been at this all week,what do you mean?” Dallon questions, face reading clear confusion.

“I’m just saying that this might be bigger than we think. What if we are-” 

But Brendon doesn’t get a chance to finish his statement, cut off by a muffled scream coming from the building in front of them. The look at eachother once and silently agree that they’re ready for what’s in that building.

 

They crouch low to the ground, close to the wall of the staircase they’re shuffling down. 

There’s another scream that travels through the air, and Dallon’s pretty sure he jumped. His heart is beating so fast, and he’s pretty sure he’s hyperventilating. The hairs on the back of his neck were damn near standing up and his hands were shaking, and he’s so out of it he almost misses Brendon clasping their hands together.

“Stay here, I’m gonna go in there.” He explains, looking Dallon in the eyes.

“What? No, I’m coming with you. Like you said, we have no idea what’s in there.” Dallon argues, his face becoming red from lack of air. 

“Dal, I need you to calm down, okay? I need you to stay here, and I need you to breath.” Brendon instructs. “You can’t freak out right now okay. I’m going alone and you’re gonna stay here and just breath. I’ll get whoever's in there, and we’ll take all of this to the police.” 

“But what happens if, what happens if you get hurt?” Dallon questions, his throat becoming tight from threatening tears.

Dallon was scared. He didn’t cry often, but he didn’t wanna lose Brendon.

“I’ll be fine, but I can’t take you in there on the brink of a panic attack.”

And Dallon sighs because he knows Brendon is right. He wouldn’t be of any help, and he’d probably just end up slowing them down.

“Please just be careful.” Dallon responds, gripping Brendon’s hands a little tighter. “Don’t be stupid.”

“When have I ever?” Brendon teases with a smile before nodding. “I’ll be back Dal, I swear.”

Brendon does lean closer, promises like that are usually followed by a kiss, and Dallon swears he’s gonna kiss him. But the kiss never comes and his tears never fall, because Brendon would be back, and a kiss now would be the same as a kiss goodbye.

So Brendon pulls him in for another hug instead. “Just stay here.” 

Brendon gets up and enters the room so quietly that Dallon’s almost sure he can do this.

But then there’s silence. He hears voices, and they sound frantic, before there’s another scream, and Dallon can’t breath again. THe floor isn’t as clear anymore, and he feels incredibly light headed. He isn’t really sure what’s going on, or how long he’d been gripping the onto the wall beside him, but the doors are pushed open and a girl comes stumbling out. 

Dallon squints his eyes at her figure, his vision still a bit rocky, but he’d know them boots anywhere.

“Nicole?” Dallon swallows roughly, his throat thick with spit, almost choking in disbelief.

Her clothes are kind of destroyed, her once iconic skater skirt now torn and covered in dirt and blood. There’s a deep gash across one of her arms and her face littered with tiny scrapes. A gash across her forehead painting her right temple red.

“Dallon? Are you okay?” She asks, her eyes wide and frantic.

“Oh my god, I should be asking you that!” He responds, his heart rate speeding up again.

“I haven’t seen any of them since like, early this morning.” She claims, her face squeezing together in pain as she clutched her arm.

“What was all that screaming then?” Dallon questions, pulling himself up and off the floor.

“There was a really sharp knife in my arm, I think it was a kitchen knife, but Brendon had to pull it out to untie me.” She responded. 

Brendon then pushes the door open, shoving his phone into a pocket.   
“I think there’s enough pictures and physical evidence to take this to the police.” Brendon nods before grabbing hold of Nicole’s arm and throwing it over his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”

 

The rest of that night was as chaotic as it could have been. Parent’s were called, reports were filed, and warrants for arrest were put out. Apparently Lilian had been in on the whole the whole thing, and her and Alexander Samuels had skipped town right after Brendon and Dallon had left her house, 

Facing the fact that they’d been manipulated was hard for all of their families to understand, but they were all just happy to have Nicole back. Dallon felt at peace in them stiff police office chairs, with everything solved and Brendon’s hood covered head rested against his own shoulder.

They all went home to their respective homes that night, but Dallon couldn’t slow his mind enough for sleep. He watches T.V. and scrolls through his phone for awhile, he stares at his ceiling and counts the glowing stars that he still hadn’t taken down from middle school, and scrolls through his phone some more.

Around five his phone chimes with actual purpose, and of course it’s from Brendon.

Meet by at the park before school.

So he does. He gets ready at six, eats breakfast by 6:30, and his mom doesn’t say anything about the night before. She knows enough already.

Brendon is already sat on one of the swings when Dallon gets there. He sits and they stay like that for awhile. Silence wasn’t really common between them, but it wasn’t ever awkward either. Dallon digs his shoes into the wood chips beneath him, his hands playing with the strings on his backpack.

Brendon was almost sure he could feel his heartbeat in his throat, but he chose to ignore it, focusing on Dallon’s fumbling feet instead.

“How are you feeling?” Dallon asked, but still hadn’t met Brendon’s gaze.

“Fine I guess. I’m not exactly sure how I’m feeling yet.” He responds, shrugging his shoulders. 

Dallon looks up, their eyes meet and Brendon knows this is his chance. He grabs the chains of his swing, and pulls himself to his feet.

“Are we going now?” Dallon askes, situating his bag as he moves to stand up.

“In a second, sure.” Brendon responds, standing in front of Dallon’s swing, sticking his hand out for Dallon to grab onto.

Dallon links their hands and Brendon pulls him up, but Brendon pulls him close, and Dallon stumbles a bit but he’s really more confused than anything.

“What are you doing?” Dallon questions, but it’s more of a reflex than anything because he’s pretty sure he knows what’s going on.

“Look, I’m not gonna push anything onto you because I know how shy you get about this stuff, but you mean a lot to me Dal, and your parents might not be cool with it, hell for all I know you might not be cool with it, but I like you a lot.”

“DId you even breath during that? Like at all?” Dallon asks with a laugh.

“Maybe, I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention.” Brendon let out with a breathy voice, further proving Dallon’s statement. 

“My parents are fine, I found it surprising, but I wasn’t going to complain.” Dallon explained before pushing his other empty hand into Brendon’s own. “As for me, I’m pretty sure I’ve come to terms with who I am.

And that was that, they both knew what that meant, and Dallon thinks he’d be okay if Brendon kissed him this time.

So he does, and they walk into school that day hand in hand.

For now they were happy. They knew they’d have to worry about everything that had happened at some point, but right now they were okay where they were.


End file.
